it is happening again ⸙ thriftfeather

[HUNGERPAW]

࿔*:･ﾟ༄　She can't keep hiding forever, as much as she wants to. She'd kept to her lonesome in her first couple moons here, hiding behind shrubs and tottering after the few cats her age. She'd rarely spoken, in those days. Gravelpaw was her main comfort, a kit swept away by Ebonylight just as she had been. Then Vulturekit, much the same, a shaky thing who brought games and stories of far off lands. He disappeared before long, and now there is no trace of him.

She's been named an apprentice now. It's time for her to stop hiding.

She starts small. She does not approach her mentor with the spider-silk smile, nor her new mother with his smoke-tinged pelt. No, her oversized paws creep close to a brand of sunlight in the dim of dusk, a wheat-pelted tom who reminds her of home. "Hey," she says softly, voice a hesitant sort of rumble. "Don't mean t'be a bother, but..." She looks up at him warily. "Y'said... When I got here, y'said your ma had... that you'd lost her too. Is that... true?"

‎‎┌── BUT THEN THE DOVE OF HOPE ⸙ BEGAN ITS DOWNWARD SLOPE ──┐‎

• @Thriftfeather
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
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• 
  HUNGERPAW　⸙ 　she/her, apprentice of duskclan, five moons.
  ➳ a large, fluffy molly with russet fur and blue eyes.
  ➳ cautious, people-pleasing, and cowardly. easily impressionable.
  ➳ scarecrow x npc; former barn cat.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Thriftfeather]

It is only a small surprise that Hungerpaw seeks him. Thriftfeather startles and settles at her voice in the breadth of a moment and listens with an intensity only Hungerpaw’s question could have brought. He remembers something like this—uncertain and collecting whatever information he could find so he could sort the new world into categories: normal and abnormal. A weight finds his shoulders; he leans until he is no longer above Hungerpaw.

“It is true,” Solemn and terribly sincere—Thriftfeather’s ears fold. He feels his heart twitch and kick in protest of the recollection, “It—I was in my second moon. I saw—” His voice drops low, some old instinct to try to keep it secret still, “—I saw it happen.”

Thriftfeather gathers himself: the tattered scraps of his courage. Hungerpaw doesn’t need to see him as a coward in the moment, “Do you…” He knows what he wants to ask and is instead struck with not knowing how to word it—Thriftfeather stalls himself with a feigned yawn before continuing, “Is there something you… wanted to ask about it? Or—or something you wanted to tell me?”
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DUSKCLAN WARRIOR ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 17 MOONS ✦ TAGS​